“Trina, you also have a professional name, do you not?”
“Yes.”
“Can you share it with the jury?”
“Trina Trixxx, spelled with a triple x.”
She smiled coyly.
“And what is the profession you use that name for?”
“I’m an escort.”
“You mean you have sex with people for money, correct?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“And how long has this been your profession?”
“Going on twelve years, on and off.”
“And did you know another escort named Gloria Dayton, who used names like Glory Days and Giselle Dallinger?”
“I knew Glory Days, yes.”
“When would that have been?”
“I probably met her ten years ago. We used the same answering service.”
“And did you also have some sort of work arrangement with her?”
“We covered for each other, if that’s what you mean. There were three girls and we covered for each other. If one was busy with a client or had a full schedule and a call came in for her, then one of the other two would take it. And sometimes if a customer wanted two girls or even three girls, then we would all work together.”
I nodded and paused for a moment. That last part had not come up previously and it was distracting to me, since the third girl who had not yet been named was Kendall Roberts.
“Mr. Haller?” the judge prompted. “Can we get through this?”
“Yes, Your Honor. Uh, Ms. Rafferty, did you have contacts within the law enforcement community during these times?”
Trina acted puzzled by the question.
“Well, I got busted a couple times. Three times, actually.”
“Did you ever get busted by the DEA?”
She shook her head.
“No, just LAPD and the sheriff’s.”
“Were you ever detained then by the DEA, by an agent named James Marco?”
In my peripheral vision I saw Forsythe lean forward. He always did it before objecting. But for some reason he didn’t object. I turned to look at him, still expecting the objection, and saw that Lankford had reached forward from his seat at the railing and touched Forsythe’s back. I read it as Lankford, the investigator, telling Forsythe, the prosecutor, not to object.
“I don’t think so.”
I turned back to the witness, unsure about what I just heard.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Can you repeat that?”
“I said no,” Trina said.
“You’re saying you don’t know a DEA agent named James Marco?”
“That’s correct. I don’t know him.”
“You’ve never even met him?”
“Not as far as I know—unless he was undercover or something and using a different name.”
I turned and glanced back at Cisco in the first row. Obviously, Marco had somehow gotten to Trina Rafferty, and in that moment I wanted to know how. But what was more pressing than the explanation was what I was going to do right now. I could turn on my own witness, but the jury might not like that.
I decided that I didn’t have much of a choice.
“Trina,” I said, “didn’t you tell me previous to your testimony here today that you were a confidential informant who worked for Agent Marco and the DEA?”
“Well, I told you a lot of things because you were paying my rent. I told you whatever you wanted me to tell you.”
“No, that’s—”
I stopped myself and tried to remain composed. Not only had Marco and Lankford gotten to her, but they had turned her into a weapon of mass destruction. If I didn’t salvage this, she could blow up the entire defense.
“When was the last time you spoke with Agent Marco?”
“I don’t know him, so I didn’t speak to him.”
“You’re telling this jury that you have no idea who Agent James Marco is?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t. I needed a place to stay and some food. I might have told you things so you would give me things back.”
It had happened to me before, a witness shifting sides like this. But never so dramatically and with so much damage inflicted on my case. I glanced over at my client at the defense table. He looked bewildered. I looked past him at Jennifer and she had an expression of embarrassment on her face—embarrassment for me.
I turned and looked at the judge, who was equally perplexed. I did the only thing I could in the situation.
“Your Honor, I have no further questions,” I said.
I slowly returned to the defense table, passing Forsythe on his way to the lectern to further the damage. As I moved through the narrow channel between the empty prosecution table and the chairs running along the railing I had to pass Lankford. I heard him make a low humming sound.